Blacker than Black Whiter than White
by btvshond
Summary: A threepart long poem about Severus Snape. Contains an OC. Repost!
1. Ponderings

Blacker than Black; Whiter than White  
  
Part I: Ponderings  
  
Disclaimer: Yes, this is just a formality thing, as practically everyone knows that the Harry Potter world belongs to the marvelous, thank-heavens- she-is-in-this-world J.K. Rowling. Oh, and Warner Bros., in a way.  
  
Author's Note: This is supposedly part one of a planned three-parter of hey, that mysterious, elusive, sardonic Severus Snape. It can stand on its own though. Parts 2 and 3 have not been written. I'll see where my muse takes me. Hope you enjoy this:  
  
I  
  
He sits in his office when work is done,  
  
He has nowhere else to go;  
  
Solitude simply means being alone,  
  
There is no place he will go.  
  
Marked loneliness shall be preferred to than Hell,  
  
For surely hell exists; he's been there before,  
  
Delving within darkness fathomless to tell;  
  
'Twas a time of dreaming, sweet madness and gore.  
  
II  
  
How he woke at last, he will never know.  
  
Spiraling inward, soul since bared,  
  
Blacker than the blackest, cold dread sank low,  
  
Gross nausea more than he cared.  
  
The one and only way out is always through,  
  
Struggling confession to whom is left to trust.  
  
The one all-knowing; the other a wretched fool,  
  
Thoughtful understanding; raging, bitter, lost.  
  
III  
  
He accepts the punishment he expects.  
  
'Tis what all traitors deserve.  
  
But nay, a path surpassing his prospects  
  
Laid forth for him to observe.  
  
"Look well brave lad, you who learnt your error."  
  
Whispered a voice so soothing he would have sobbed,  
  
Were not for fierce pride and rising terror,  
  
Checking emotion as realisation dawned.  
  
IV  
  
"There's the free road I give you here to take.  
  
It's not for me to turn you in.  
  
Do what you feel is right for conscience's sake.  
  
Guilt is the worst blow from within."  
  
Looking down the road untrodden,  
  
Dared he face the demons first thought left behind,  
  
This time shouldering a different burden,  
  
By fighting back, a chance not sought out in mind?  
  
V  
  
He chose to join the battlefield again,  
  
Henceforth from the other side.  
  
Be it for redemption or vengeance plain,  
  
He helped overcome the tide.  
  
He shrugged off recognition that never came.  
  
His mentor's smile and nod were all that mattered.  
  
Even as dullness and pain still feel the same,  
  
Penance is not enough for one thus battered.  
  
VI  
  
He took up work his mentor had proffered,  
  
'Twas all there was left to do.  
  
Sanctuary and prison this place offered,  
  
The sole comfort he turned to.  
  
Now he stands staring out the windowpane,  
  
Unmoved by the lushness nature has to show.  
  
Seeing the years upon the cold ground lain,  
  
Longing to escape his wasted, empty shadow.  
  
VII  
  
"Come away into the open dear child.  
  
Leave the past that holds you bound.  
  
See what life can give in this world so wild.  
  
Fear not the splendours around."  
  
Doubt brings pause at the threshold in between.  
  
Conflicting choices fighting for the prime.  
  
Lurk back in corners he has always been,  
  
Or seek forth absolution for all time?  
  
He steps out.  
  
(A/N: The protagonist is of course Snape and the mentor naturally Dumbledore.) 


	2. The Unlikely Meeting

Blacker than Black; Whiter than White Part II: The Unlikely Meeting  
  
I  
  
Oh! Wondrous delight, to stand atop the rolling hills;  
  
To hear the cathedral bells below resound in peals.  
  
Laugh in abandon, ride with the wind that blows in warmth  
  
Under springtime skies with golden sunrays pouring forth.  
  
Heedless one's meal is missed, freedom shall replace her bread.  
  
Beauty intoxicate, to imagination fed.  
  
II  
  
There she is, arms widespread, head thrown back, a nameless teen;  
  
Sweet sixteen one may mock, though there lies charm seldom seen.  
  
Fair in countenance, gentle in spirit, both combined,  
  
Reveal a being rare in an age so unrefined.  
  
See how her grey eyes glow from a soul that is taintless,  
  
As her pale blond hair flows as one with her long white dress.  
  
III  
  
Content to remain, to be immersed in Earth's own song;  
  
To embrace whispers that leave without a trace ere long  
  
Till unfamiliar sounds startle her from wandering thought  
  
And turn her round to find what mystical Fate has brought.  
  
Amazement reigns as her searching eyes settle upon  
  
A person who seems to spring from a different eon.  
  
IV  
  
She studies as best she can this man who comes from naught,  
  
For here she meets no stranger, much less one of his sort.  
  
Clothed just in raven black, his cloak sweeps in confidence;  
  
That which lacking in his steps, mars his awesome presence.  
  
Sensing himself watched, he halts and gathers up his wits;  
  
Surprise well hid, straight and proud, he glares at where she sits.  
  
V  
  
Returning to a forgotten world fear grips his heart.  
  
Perhaps 'tis why he chooses this lonely place to start.  
  
Neither prepared nor at ease to receive social touch,  
  
Yet even here he fails to avoid attention much.  
  
A girl not unlike a nymph from a Romantic play  
  
Is resting on the grass only several feet away.  
  
VI  
  
"A Muggle," he guesses aright, rigid as a stone,  
  
Non-magical, but possessing magic of her own.  
  
How else can he explain eyes that over him hold sway;  
  
That stop him from speaking ill and compel him to stay?  
  
Such radiance shining from her face in tranquility  
  
Makes him jealous: he has lost it for eternity.  
  
VII  
  
More affected than he admits when she looks at him.  
  
No judgement shown so far as his suspicion may deem.  
  
Nor fear, nor loathing, nor cruelty, nor pity, nor scorn,  
  
That leads himself to feel inexplicably forlorn.  
  
Helplessness surrounds, he knows not how to deal with her,  
  
Therefore he attacks in his customary manner.  
  
VIII  
  
She perceives unexpected threat and warning in his sneer,  
  
Understanding then he does not wish her to be near.  
  
Still she reels more from the nothingness that fills his eyes,  
  
Swirling pools coldly blazing yet something in him dies.  
  
Silent they have been throughout their unusual meeting.  
  
At last she plucks her courage up to smile in greeting.  
  
"Hello," she calls. 


	3. Reconcialiation

Part III: Reconciliation (written one month after Part II)  
  
I  
  
Give pardon to an amateur's writer's block  
  
As she searches for signs within and without.  
  
Verse is not as easy as mending a sock,  
  
That which an old man is known to moan about  
  
The lack thereof, in all Christmas presents, hark!  
  
Who dares deny the wizard greatest throughout?  
  
To return, tempted as she is to change to prose,  
  
Yet having begun, continues down her course.  
  
II  
  
It is said that a tale is only a tale  
  
With no more substance than a thought or shadow.  
  
We tellers spin songs and suspense without fail;  
  
Faceless, nameless souls luring those who follow.  
  
Player play their part beneath Fantasy's veil,  
  
Long after we leave for the Greener Meadow.  
  
Happily, if you still wish to note their fate,  
  
By all means read on, before the hour grows late.  
  
III  
  
The girl has spoken, as one remembers,  
  
Although she might just as well be mute.  
  
Her voice reaches not his ear as she prefers,  
  
Nor breaks what invisible wall he has built.  
  
He reminds her proper of gothic chambers,  
  
Filled with boiling cauldrons watched on by a newt.  
  
Neither thought helping her to connect her with him,  
  
Recollects herself, as she maintains her beam.  
  
IV  
  
Such men her mother cautions are dangerous;  
  
She cannot be sure, as she has never met.  
  
His solemn stillness makes her grow ponderous;  
  
She yearns to engage him in a jovial chat.  
  
Still she refrains, lest he thinks her frivolous,  
  
Aiming thus to go as far as she will get.  
  
Courteous, she asks if he is a traveller,  
  
Only to receive a cold, flat, "Silly girl."  
  
V  
  
He starts abusing the lass' kind intention.  
  
The more he speaks, the more wounding his comments,  
  
Further wrapped in boredom and mock protestation;  
  
The more he speaks, the more he loathes his attempts,  
  
Yet derives perverse pleasure in her condition  
  
Of seeming unease and regretful laments.  
  
Now she will rage or weep if terror conquers  
  
And so he is amazed when she chuckles.  
  
VI  
  
She continues, amused by his expression,  
  
A mix of consternation and confusion.  
  
Upon seeing anger swiftly joining tension,  
  
Comes a sudden particularly odd vision:  
  
She, a student, being given detention,  
  
By him, filling her with mild apprehension.  
  
Mild the fear is, which then quickly vanishes,  
  
Like dry autumn leaves burning in to ashes.  
  
VII  
  
An unusual sight to behold that bright day,  
  
Atop the quiet, unimposing hill.  
  
A man so sullen; a girl so light and gay.  
  
Having stopped laughing, she presses on with zeal;  
  
Pauses now and then to let him have his say.  
  
He having none, goes on with spirited will,  
  
Heartened by his silence, strange as that may sound,  
  
Unaware of Phoebus heading homeward bound.  
  
VIII  
  
She talks of the hills and trees that spread across;  
  
She shows from her heart the haven she adores;  
  
Telling him of swallows from some unknown source;  
  
Pointing at the village everyone ignores.  
  
Gentle folks live there, no one is ever coarse.  
  
All are welcome, their houses, there are no doors.  
  
A Utopia, who knows that it can be found,  
  
Where all good, natural and wholesome surround.  
  
IX  
  
She watches in secret as she keeps talking.  
  
From him leaves the poison from Suspicion's dart.  
  
The breeze whirls about as they begin walking,  
  
Unconscious on his part; gladness in her heart.  
  
He does not look at her though at her asking,  
  
Looks where she beckons without a single but.  
  
Two strangers side by side, together for once,  
  
In a circle they have made their own by chance.  
  
X  
  
At last they settle at a secluded end,  
  
Facing the sun that slowly disappears,  
  
Letting velvet night cover the sleeping land  
  
With high above twinkling like diamond tears.  
  
Unchanging stars on whom explorers depend,  
  
Guide the lost whose cries of help nobody hears.  
  
The girl has long seized her rambling monologue;  
  
She has done what troubadours write in their log.  
  
XI  
  
She knows she cannot change or make him friendly.  
  
Melancholy beneath the harshness remains.  
  
Though the hideous emptiness that rules him mainly  
  
Has been replaced by what she hopes he retains.  
  
A dawning light shining through his eyes plainly  
  
Proves a new calm and ease he gradually gains.  
  
They stay there as they are, forgetting to sup,  
  
As the soothing voices of the choir float up.  
  
XII  
  
Mass is finally over, the clock strikes eight,  
  
Surprising them for they have not been aware  
  
Of previous times the church-boy rings with his might.  
  
She then turns to him thinking to say take care,  
  
Before going home after bidding good night.  
  
Touched hence she is when he gives more time to share.  
  
In a surreal moment, they stroll down the path,  
  
And as they reach the gates he stops in his path  
  
"Thank you," he whispers, and left.  
  
Author's Note: Great Scots! I managed to finish it. Ilona if you are reading this, thank you for your up-lifting reviews. I'm not very good at poetry really, and there are certain parts here I'm still not too pleased with, but hey, one gotta have a shot at something new sometimes. 


	4. Author's Note

Author's Note:  
  
Inspired by this first try at fanfic, I have started on a planned novel- length fanfic. Although Severus Snape will be the main protagonist, the fanfic contains snippets of many other characters from the beloved Harry Potter world so vividly realised by J.K. Rowling. The fanfic will appear next week, and is entitled "Make Love, or Make a Revolution".  
  
P.S.: Can anyone help me out? I put italics to some of my passages, but when I upload it into fanfiction.net, everything comes out in the non- italic form! How can I correct that? Any help is appreciated. 


End file.
